


i'll be your man if you've got love to get done

by senseof_Hygge



Category: ONEWE (Band)
Genre: All the tropes here we go ahem:, Boys In Love, Chasing meteors/comets, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Cuddling, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ju "Ass Man" Harin, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Not Beta Read, Sleepovers, Study Date, bike ride dates, coffee dates, hand holding, ice skating dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senseof_Hygge/pseuds/senseof_Hygge
Summary: Dongmyeong's been friends with Harin for as long as he can remember, he's been in love with him probably for longer than that.  In between the changing of the seasons, he finds himself going on dates, helping his best friend through a relationship crisis, and going on more dates.  They all somehow involve Harin.  He somehow doesn't mind.After all, it's not about them falling in love.  It's about them being in love.
Relationships: Ju Harin/Son Dongmyeong, background - biasline
Comments: 46
Kudos: 35





	1. Winter to Spring

**Author's Note:**

> this is sort of just a collection of dates wrapped into one place that happens over the course of one year. hope you like!

When Dongmyeong was 10 years old, he tripped and fell on nothing. 

He remembers laying back down after a few attempts of getting up, ankle stinging and no doubt swelling quickly, staring up at the wide expanse of sky, tinged orange around the edge, blurry with the tears welling in his eyes. Dongju had cried too, gripped with sympathy pains as he sat down beside him and wailed pitifully.

Dongmyeong hadn't tried to get him to stop crying, somewhere between too hurt to think past it and also knowing that when Dongju got to crying, it was just best to ride it out. Still, he had done what he could, reaching up to wipe the tears from his face as he tried to stifle his own crying.

He'd felt awful, an unbearableness settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how he was going to let Giwook know about this. Just earlier that he'd promised to make band practice, even ushered him off when Giwook held onto his shirt and offered to walk to Hyungu's house together. It hadn’t been a feeling he’d known the word for, strung in the middle of guilt and remorse, he’d felt like an awful friend and wept bitterly about it.

"Shouldn't you be worried about yourself first?" From where Dongmyeong was laying, Harin's face popped into view, eclipsing the sun in his eyes. He had his signature smile, though the draw of his brow gave away his concern.

"He's hurt!" Dongju wailed again, throwing himself into Harin's arms. Dongmyeong had started crying a little harder too, fat tears squeezing pitifully out of the corner of his eyes, staring at the wavy silhouette of Harin. At 12, he wasn’t too much taller than either twin, though his legs had lengthened considerably. His lip quivered as he watched Harin soothingly rub Dongju's head, gaze soft.

"C'mon," Harin motioned his head toward his bike, "I'll give you a lift home then."

"I can walk." Dongmyeong sniffled but he'd made grabby hands at him anyways. Harin had laughed at him, pulling him up and throwing his arm over his shoulder so most of Dongmyeong's weight was off his injury.

"What about band practice?" Dongju wrung his hands together nervously as he watched Harin unlock his bike with one hand. Harin’s fingers rubbed little circles along his waist, both soothing and distracting Dongmyeong from the pain.

"I can be late for band practice." He waved Dongju off easily, hoisting Dongmyeong onto the rear bike rack, an uncomfortable sit but better than walking the whole way back. "Gotta get you kids home first."

"Hey!" Dongmyeong still sniffled, though he hurriedly wiped his tears on his sleeve, "You're only two years older than us."

"Yep." Harin grinned, ruffling his hair affectionately, grin splitting impossibly wider when Dongmyeong huffed at him. "That's like 600 days older than you."

He'd mounted his bike then, careful with the added weight of Dongmyeong, and turned to Dongju,

"Can you walk? Or do you wanna ride on the handlebars?"

"I can walk but…" Dongju shuffled, cheeks puffed out and eyes rimmed red, every image of a boy in need of a fun bike ride. Harin seemed to agree too, waving him over,

"Okay, okay, onto the handle bars you go!" Then, turning to Dongmyeong, face so close to him that their foreheads rested together, whispered, "Hang onto me."

And away they went. The ride was slow and wobbly; wind flowing through their hair, Dongju's squeals of delight when Harin jerked his handles this way and that, Dongmyeong wrapped an arm around his midsection and rested his head on his back, listening.

Against his ear, the vibration of Harin's laugh was a pleasant rumble, spreading like butterfly kisses all the way down to his fingertips. The sky turned over and over, the white of the clouds pure and stark against the pinking heavens, endlessly moving.

When they got to his house, his mom was horrified to find that Dongmyeong had been injured, hovering over him like the mother hen that she was, hands smoothing over his face and hair, checking the rest of his body for any wayward injuries they might have missed. 

Dongmyeong leaned against Harin the whole time, smelling the sun on him, focusing on the warmth of his palm, rubbing circles into his arm.

"Upstairs with you now, little one, I'll be up right away." His mom ushered him up the stairs, making no move to separate Harin from him, something he was grateful for, as he awkwardly hobbled up the stairs.

"I can bandage him up if you're busy, aunty." Harin offered, hand hovering on the small of his back as he hopped from one step to the next. Dongmyeong hummed in agreement,

"Yeah mom don't worry, hyung can do it!" 

She had left them to their own devices with little fanfare, pulling Dongju into the dining room for after school snacks, his cheering echoing around the house.

Harin was quick to hold him again when Dongmyeong made it up the stairs, shuffling into the bathroom where they kept the medical supplies.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Dongmyeong sat down on the toilet seat cover, wriggling his toes impatiently. Harin paused from mulling over the contents of the bin and looked at him.

Dongmyeong had zeroed in immediately on the large pimple just above his brow,

"Sure I do." He hummed breezily, pulling out a set of compression bandages, "Gimme your leg."

Dongmyeong had started crying again by the time Harin finished, wincing weakly at the pain when he tightened the bandages too much, his sniffles echoing in the bathroom. Harin wiped his tears, not once flinching at the amount of snot, and offered to piggyback him to his bedroom.

Dongju was already there when Harin brought him in, steadily working through his sheets of homework, kicking his legs out as he hummed to himself. He shot both of them a weird look before piling his homework into his arms and running to their dad, whining about not understanding any of it.

"Isn't he really good at grammar?" Harin mused as he sat them both on Dongmyeong's bed. He reached over and fluffed one pillow, motioning for Dongmyeong to sit back, before taking the other pillow and gingerly placing it under his foot.

"Yeah… dunno what's up with that." He sniffled again, wiping away the mess on his face with the back of his sleeve again. Harin laughed, voice breaking a little in the middle of it, tips of his ears blooming pink when he made eye contact with Dongmyeong.

"D'you need anythin' else?"

"Come sit with me for a bit…?" Dongmyeong whispered, patting the spot beside him. Harin grinned, the spaces of his teeth evening out, gums pink and eyes curved. His heart was thrilled just by seeing it.

Harin never made it to band practice.

-

"What are you thinking about?" Giwook snaps his fingers in front of Dongmyeong's face, laughing when he flinches back and throws him a mean look. The straw in his mouth has been chewed beyond recognition so he uncaps his iced tea and drinks from the cup instead.

"That's so rude of you." Is all he says before he looks back behind the counter to Harin.

"Like you haven't done the same thing to me." Giwook sticks his tongue out at him and Dongmyeong makes a grab at it, eliciting a scandalised gasp from him. Harin's voice, deep and rumbling, carries across the cafe,

"Don't bully our baby!" He chides Dongmyeong. He comes out to the front, holding a tray of tarts and begins piling them into the display case.

He's dressed in a pair of ripped, faded jeans and a ratty Ramones t-shirt, half his denim coat thrown off his broad shoulders, the earring and cuff on his right ear catching the sunlight, drawing Dongmyeong's eye. Outside, snow finds its home in the crevices of the roads, piling along the sidewalks and twinkling as it nestles onto the tops of the buildings. Dongmyeong burrows into his cardigan some more, nails catching on the knitted material of it, grimacing when he feels his nail rip just a little.

Giwook pushes at him, pulling him back to the conversation,

"Yeah, listen to hyung!"

"You're only younger by two weeks." Dongmyeong counters, though he stays his hand from shoving at Giwook the way he wants. His eyes trail along the hollow of Harin's neck when he turns to them, the fineness of his skin, drawn taut, bronzed and so, so beautiful.

He's at the height now that when they hug, his face presses right along Harin's neck, nosing along that dip. Harin smells like he's soaked in sunshine all the time, warm and bright on the back of his tongue whenever he breathes him in.

The straw misses his mouth when he moves to take a sip then he remembers he'd forgone the straw anyways.

"Anyways, what's on your mind?" Giwook asks, drumming his nails against the table, the paint chipped and cracked.

Dongmyeong thinks another trip to their nail kit stash is in order, possibly this weekend. He looks at his own nails, a little too overgrown for his liking and definitely not as pointed as he'd like. 

Harin had once held their hands together, palm to palm, and marveled at the length of his nails, running his thumb long the edge of Dongmyeong's nails, faking that he'd cut himself on them. He laughs at the memory, vivid in his mind like a perfect snapshot from a camera, despite how many years ago that had been. 

"...Do you remember that time you and Hyungu-hyung came running over to my place when I didn't show up for band practice?"

"Well we went to Harin-hyung's place first only to find out he wasn't there."

"Details, whatever, but you came to my house and my mom let you guys in?"

"And found you with a sprained ankle being spooned by Harin-hyung? How could I forget, we thought you died."

"So dramatic," Dongmyeong wrinkles his nose at him, "It was only a few hours, tops. Also, I really thought you would have been more angry with me for missing band practice."

"I mean, it’s hard to be mad when you think your best friend is just dead. Why were you even thinking about that?"

Dongmyeong mulls the question over in his head. Why had he? He looks back over the glass partition where the top of Harin's head peaks over, watching him work. As if imbued with a sixth sense, Harin looks up and catches his gaze, eyes curving familiarly in a faint smile.

His heart flutters a little.

"...dunno." he settles on, though his eyes follow Harin's every move. Giwook tracks his gaze over to Harin too and he shakes his head,

"Sure, okay."

"What? You don't believe me?" Dongmyeong feigns hurt, placing a hand over his heart, shaking his head in disbelief. His bangs flutter in front of his face and he takes a moment to swipe them back out of his eyes.

Giwook looks back at Harin and doesn't answer. That in itself is answer enough.

It’s the evening when Harin’s shift is over, Giwook has long since left him to go see Hyungu instead, pink high on his cheeks when Dongmyeong waggled his eyebrows at him. Harin dusts the imaginary dirt off his pants and spreads his arms,

“Thanks for waiting! Am I presentable enough for you?” Dongmyeong smoothes a hand over his shirt, feeling the material lifting a little under his fingers,

“Aren't you always?”

“I dunno,” Harin laughs while shrugging, he pulls Dongmyeong out of the shop, easily lacing their hands together, “You told me you wanted to do something tonight so I figured I’d try to look my best.”

“You always look your best.” Dongmyeong admits, squeezing his hand. Harin turns back to him, smile ever-present on his lips, the sharp jut of his chin handsome and familiar. He winks, an easy, over-exaggerated motion that has them both laughing, before he lets Dongmyeong lead the way.

“So where are we going?” He asks, thumb tracing the back of Dongmyeong’s hand as he’s led down several blocks. Dongmyeong adjusts his hat, pulling his beanie tighter over his ears,

“I was thinking since it’s the middle of winter we’d make the best of it and go to the skate rink.” 

“The outdoor one? Won’t you be cold?”

“Yeah but… it’ll be fun.” Dongmyeong shrugs one shoulder, cheeks heating when Harin laughs at him, fondly squeezing his hand.

Harin has always been handsome, even when he was some bumbling teenager with his too-big feet walking around, face red with acne, hair far too long for anyone's liking. It had been in the cut of his chin, the bob of his Adam's apple, the salience of his smile.

With age, he's only grown into his features, broadened, sharpened, and still so breathtakingly handsome.

He smiles at Dongmyeong, the flash of his teeth sweet and pretty, taking his hand in his, thumb rubbing against his knuckles,

"You cold?"

"Just a little." He admits, and giggles when Harin cups both hands around his, pressing them to his mouth to blow hot air on them. His knuckles tingle with it, the shudder that spreads down his back unbidden and surprising. More than a sailor to the sea, Dongmyeong is effortlessly drawn to him.

"You should bring gloves next time." He chides half-heartedly, hands rubbing warmth into Dongmyeong's fingers.

"Why would I do that when I've got you?" Dongmyeong presses closer to him, knocking his forehead against Harin's shoulder. 

"Ah shit you're right. Can't lose my position as human heater." He pulls Dongmyeong to him, pressing their bodies flush together, hooking his chin over his shoulder. Dongmyeong wraps his arms around his midsection, burrowing his nose against his turtleneck, and smells the sun on him.

He feels Harin laugh before he hears it, the rumble of it comforting against the biting cold of the wind. Harin pulls his jacket closed around them both as best as he can, hand closing over the back of his head, resting gingerly in his hair. 

"Maybe we should go home?" Harin suggests. They're idle now, swaying side to side as Dongmyeong tries not to get wayward frozen tears onto his shirt, held tight together, every image that of a seafarer in dance with a nymph, both drawn close together. 

"We haven't even _started_ skating, hyung." He whines a little, shaking his head as he pulls away. Harin gives in easily, he always has with Dongmyeong, smile cresting with joy when he looks down at him. 

"Okay, okay, should we go then?"

Dongmyeong pulls him along, fingers laced together, pressing the pads of his fingers to Harin's slender ones, squeezing his grip just to feel him squeeze back.

They pay for the hour and spend the start of it lacing up each others skates. Dongmyeong pulls Harin's covered skate into his lap, working on double-knotting his laces, fingers working as quickly as he can despite the stiffness of them.

"How come you get the pretty ice-skater skates and I’m stuck with the hockey ones?" Harin grumbles, wincing when Dongmyeong tightens his laces a little too much. He rubs the skate in apology.

"Because you suck at skating." He replies simply, standing up and pulling Harin up with him. He stumbles, wobbling like a newborn deer, knees knocking together before Dongmyeong steadies him, smirking at him.

"I'm only bad because then you have to hold my hand."

"Hyung I already hold your hand through everything. Don't use that as an excuse."

Dongmyeong holds his hand and when he smiles, the bright of his joy could rival the sunlight. He thinks he would shun the light if Harin keeps smiling so.

On the ice, Harin grips his hand, lips pursed in concentration, knees knocking together when he tries to push off on his right foot. Dongmyeong holds onto him, tight, tight, tight.

-

-  
[🥁😎]: hey you free on Sunday?

[☀️💛]: I can be,,, whats up?

[🥁😎]: theres a meteor shower, wanna catch it?

[☀️💛]: (: Come pick me up? 

[🥁😎]: be there at 9!

Winter bleeds slowly into spring, vestiges of its cold frost still clinging desperately onto the edges of the world, even when green stubbornly begins to sprout anew. Giwook is huddled in a blanket at his desk, fingers flying over his keyboard as he focuses on his project. Dongmyeong kisses him on the head on his way out,

“‘m heading out for a bit.”

“Mn, with Harin-hyung?” his tone is quiet, a sweet lilt of question, not entirely present even as he’s speaking. Even the brightness of his phone screen, buzzing every few seconds, can’t seem to pull him away from his work.

“Yep.” he pops the ‘p’ for effect, hands smoothing over the blanket draped over their couch. He takes it with him, heading for the door. “Going to see the meteor shower with him.”

“Sounds romantic.” Giwook muses just as Dongmyeong slips his shoes on. As he opens the door, a car honks at him, Harin waving happily from behind the driver seat.

“Yeah,” Dongmyeong agrees, waving back at Harin, “it sure is.”  
The thing is… the thing is, being with Harin feels good. Sitting underneath the stars like this, the wind breezing through his hair, tickling at the rips in his jeans, he can smell the residual warmth of the sun on Harin, familiar and comforting. 

They’d propped open the back of his hatchback the moment Harin found a good enough spot to park, an hour or so outside the city where the light pollution thinned considerably, with a clear view of the heavens, sitting in the trunk of his car, feet dangling over as they watched the stars shining like gems. He throws the blanket he’d snatched from home over both of their legs, snuggling close to him.

Harin points at a wild smattering of stars that arc brightly across the night sky, Dongmyeong focuses on the line of his finger, slender and golden,

“Do you think that’s part of the meteor shower?” This close together, he can see the stray pockmarks decorating his cheeks, the vestiges of his teenage years, his lips dry and cracking. Dongmyeong passes his chapstick tube to him, their fingers grazing when Harin grabs it.

“I dunno.” He shrugs, pulling his coat sweater tighter around him. “I’ve never seen these stars before, I have no idea what the lyre even is.”

“Lyrid.” Harin corrects gently, though the tone of his voice belies his affection. Dongmyeong pushes him lightly,

“Whatever,” he scoffs, his hand stilling in the fabric of Harin’s sweater, “not like you know any better.”

“No,” he agrees effortlessly, grabbing hold of Dongmyeong’s hand and stuffing it into the pouch of his hoodie, “I don’t.” 

He smiles easily too, turning to him with something soft in his gaze, Dongmyeong sways into him further.

“Why’d you even want to do this then?”

“Just wanted something to do with you.”

“You didn’t need to do all this just to hang out with me.”

“Yeah, well,” Harin shrugs one shoulder, the fabric of his sweater bunching up around his neck sweetly, just as the the night sky bursts with several rays of luminous light, streaking across right in front of their eyes, “you gotta admit it’s a real pretty sight.”

Harin turns to him again, the starlight illuminating his face, his glowing like the moon, something rare and beautiful caught in between each long lash. Between the thin of his lips spread into a serene smile, Dongmyeong finds love held there, like an ill-kept secret.

“Mhm.” Dongmyeong breathes. He squeezes Harin’s hand once, then again, as hard as he can, suddenly overcome by some indescribable emotion. “Really pretty.”

It’s nearly 2 in the morning when they decide to call it quits, Dongmyeong only knows this Giwook sent him a text at _1:37AM_ telling him to be quiet on his way into their house. He pinks a little, so caught up in being with Harin that he hadn’t realized they’d spent more than three hours outside, heads turned skyward and still so, so tuned toward each other.

“There weren’t as many meteors as I thought.” Dongmyeong muses, “In all those YouTube videos I saw like… eighty of them in the span of one day.”

“Aren’t those videos sped up way more though?”

“That doesn’t mean there should be less meteors… wait, what are you hiding?”

Harin laughs a little nervously, scratching at the pockmark highest on his left cheek, a habit he never really grew out of when he’d reached his young adult years and his face cleared up considerably. Dongmyeong slides out of the trunk, just as Harin does, narrowing his eyes at him,

“The peak may have been at 4 today… well, yesterday.”

“Hyung… we came here at _10_! Why’d we come so late?!”

Harin shrugs, under the stray starlight, Dongmyeong catches the pinking of his cheeks, flushing across the high of his cheekbones, the bridge of his aquiline nose, pink has never been such a darling colour.

“It wouldn’t have been the same.”

The admission is terrifyingly sweet and Dongmyeong smiles as wide as he can, reaching for Harin’s hand, who grabs hold of him as naturally as he breathes. There are so many things he can say, he knows, between the way Harin’s thumb swipes idly across the back of his hand, and the way he looks at Dongmyeong, he knows there are so many things that would go right and yet…

“I had fun tonight.” Dongmyeong settles on instead. Harin squeezes his hand, eyes curving so, so beautifully, he sets the moon to shame.

“Me too.” he digs his toes into the hard ground, clearly hesitant. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Dongmyeong thinks it might be too cheesy to admit that Harin’s been his home since they were children, instead he purses his lips and nods tightly.

Against the twinkling of the night sky, uninhibited by the bustle of city lights, Harin shines and Dongmyeong sees nothing else but him.


	2. Spring to Summer

When Dongmyeong was 13, his mom let him put on makeup for the first time.

Her foundation had been two shades too light, a perfect match for Dongju absolutely, but it made him look gaunt and paltry. He teared up when he used the mascara, bristles of the wand far too harsh on his fine lashes, unused to the sensation. It bled a mess down his cheeks which he hurriedly wiped away.

Harin took one look at him and went slack-jawed.

His hand stalled over the door handle, eyes wide, mouth soft and pink and open; he'd stuttered for the first time since Dongmyeong met him.

"That bad, huh?" He joked, moving aside to let him in. Harin hurriedly shook his head, hair wild and fluffy,

"No! You're so pretty what, geez, gosh, I-" He stopped then, toeing at the ground, eyes cast downward and lashes lowered, nearly quivering, "Gosh you're pretty." He whispered finally. Dongmyeong felt his face split into a wide smile,

"Thanks hyung." He tried to tamp down his grin though it fought him every step of the way. 

"Not that you aren't always-" Harin started then stopped. He rubbed a hand over his face, sighing, then rocked forward on the balls of his feet for a bit, "Nevermind."

"What?" Dongmyeong huffed, though he was prepared to let the conversation go. He pulled on his new pair of shoes, off-white runners with a chunky sole that gave him more height than he had, just as Harin shook his head,

"Nothing… ready to go?"

"Yeah," he reached for the doorknob just as Harin did, both flushing pink, "ready."

Harin's bike had thin wheels and a straight, sturdy frame. He'd outgrown his other bike over the previous summer and his new one seemed to be a little too big on him, though Harin assured him he would grow into it. Dongmyeong hadn’t doubted him in the slightest.

Dongmyeong tightened the basket on his bike, swinging his leg over the frame and steadying himself onto the seat.

"Where to?" He asked, hooking his foot underneath the pedal and pedaling backwards, listening to the familiar rattling sound of the gears.

"Figured we'd go along the sea." Harin shrugged, the fabric of his thin shirt lifting with the motion, and Dongmyeong's eyes followed the hem of it.

"Awesome."

Midsummer was clear and warm, bright even in the evening, and Dongmyeong could taste salt on the back of his palette the entire ride. There was a path along the seaside they were used to following, chasing after one another as they always did, a blended cacophony of their beguiling screams and the raucous world around them.

“Hurry up!” Dongmyeong shouted behind him, throwing his arms up into the air, caution laying dead in the wind.

The wind also carried with it the sound of Harin’s laugh, so much deeper now though it still had its sweet breathy cadence. 

They stopped by the ice cream vendor and split a popsicle, setting their bikes by the bench, watching the plethora of boats break through the waves as they docked.

Harin stretched his legs out in front of him, throwing an arm over the back of the bench, hand finding purchase in the fine hairs at the nape of Dongmyeong's neck.

“Wish we could do this forever.” He admitted softly, looking up. Within the depths of his eyes, the sky held itself in reverence, and Dongmyeong watched, equally enraptured.

“We could.” Dongmyeong replied, leaning back into Harin’s hand. The popsicle dripped incessantly onto his knuckles, though he never thought once to clean it up, too preoccupied with looking at Harin. He found that he meant it, with a sort of conviction he’d seen his parents whisper to each other, love laced between the spaces of their hands, he meant it in every sense. 

The sky swirled endlessly above them, a myriad of corals and oranges, blending together, pink around the edges, softened by the clouds. Slowly, steadily, inevitably Harin smiled and between the cut of his teeth, Dongmyeong found love unspoken.

-

He's just finished blending his foundation when someone rings the doorbell. Dongmyeong ignores it, assuming Giwook has ordered food or something, reaching for his eyebrow pencil and lining the tip of it against the arch of his brow. His phone buzzes,

[🥁😎]: wtf let me in

He practically flies out of his room to open the door, catching Giwook in the kitchen making a sandwich and he knows he's gonna be on his ass about putting the knife in the sink later.

"Hyung!" Dongmyeong calls, opening the door, "Who even rings the doorbell anymore? Just text me next time."

"Wha- I used to ring the doorbell all the time!"

"When we were _kids_ , hyungie, we have phones now." He waves his phone in front of Harin's face to make a point.

"Harin's here!" Harin announces when Dongmyeong doesn't say anything further. Dongmyeong pushes at him for being embarrassing just as Giwook gives him a half-hearted wave,

"Uhn, hi."

"What are you even doing here, hyung?"

"I was just biking around in the neighbourhood. Thought I'd drop by and see if you wanted to join me."

It’s a lie veneered in an excuse, they both know this. Harin lives in an entirely different neighbourhood, with a workout buddy turned roommate who feeds their stray cat with high-quality cat food, on the western side of the city where the sea practically flows through his backyard.

Dongmyeong lives just on the outskirts of the downtown area, where the lights keep him up at night more than the noises do. On the scarce nights that Harin ends up staying too late to go home, Dongmyeong pillows himself against his chest and finds blissful dark quietening around them.

He gestures to his face,

"I have one eyebrow done."

"Well go put on the rest of your makeup, I'll wait."

"I didn't even say yes yet." Dongmyeong retorts though he's already going back to his bedroom to finish his look.

"Oh, uhh, you wanna go?"

"Duh." Dongmyeong scoffs. “Where’s your bike?”

“I locked it to a stop sign so you better hurry or else I’m gonna get a ticket.”

“ _Hyung!_ ”

Harin throws him a flashy smile and finger guns before he looks over to where Giwook is struggling to take a bite of his sandwich. He mimes a squeezing motion and Dongmyeong watches his arms flex,

"Giwookie you gotta squish it down, squish it!"

"... No thanks, I like to suffer when I eat, actually." 

The utter befuddlement on Harin's face has him laughing though Giwook's answer is a little too melodramatic for his liking. Dongmyeong thinks they might need to have another relationship talk with Giwook soon.

Harin follows him like a shadow into his room, throwing himself on his bed as Dongmyeong sits back down at his vanity. It’s a long stretch of time where Dongmyeong is applying his eyeshadow that he notices Harin is strangely quiet. When he looks back in the mirror, Harin is laying propped up on one elbow, resting his head on his hand and idly watching him, small smile tugging at his lips, broadening his cupid’s bow.

“What?” Harin asks.

“What?” Dongmyeong parrots.

Harin squeezes the teddy bear he’s been cuddling in one arm, shrugging his shoulder,

“Can I not look at a pretty boy?” he asks. Dongmyeong waves him off, which only seems to spur him on even more, “Seriously, you’re so pretty. Just the prettiest.”

“Uh-huh.” he goes back to blending his eyeshadow, listening to Harin rustling around on his bed, making a mess of his blankets. He slides off the bed easily, still clinging onto the teddy bear and drapes himself over Dongmyeong,

“Why do you sound like you don’t believe me?”

“I know I’m pretty.” he lets Harin hook his chin over his shoulder, staring at the two of them in the mirror. 

This crowded into his space, he smells of the sun, of the warmth Dongmyeong’s known him to be all his life. He smiles at Harin through the mirror, feels himself flush when Harin presses their cheeks together and croons,

"So pretty." Harin reaffirms. Dongmyeong makes a kissy face at him, heart stuttering at the way Harin's face all but softens, eyes fixing on the curve of his lip.

Harin's bike is made for commuting, with soft grips on the dropped handlebars and a nice, even seat; when he sits on it, his body is practically parallel to the ground.

Dongmyeong's bike is made for a quick cruise through the city, with a cushy seat and a sloping frame, a little bell in the shape of a bee to complete the look. It's still quite new and the first thing he did when he bought it last year was rope Harin into repainting the frame yellow.

Harin leans over and rings his bell, chuckling deep and low when Dongmyeong swats him away,

"Where we heading?"

"Mmm… figured we'd take a ride down by the seaside?"

"Lead the way."

They take the dipping roads all the way down, letting go of their handlebars and yelling, ignoring the cars that whiz past them, eyes caught on the garish street lights. Green never fades to red.

When everything settles, Harin’s bangs flutter sweetly into the shape of a heart before his hands card through once, twice, then ruffling it into shape once more. With the heat of the summer Harin had begun to sport an undercut, a dangerously good look on him, showing off the soft line of his ears and the sharpness of his neck. 

Dongmyeong smiles, finds that the road is clear of any pesky traffic, and pulls out his phone,

“Hyung!” he calls, throwing up a peace sign, “Smile!”

Harin crowds into view, doing his best to mirror Dongmyeong’s expressions and mannerisms. His eyes crinkle cutely, the curve prominent and sharp, lashes casting a shadow over his cheeks. Dongmyeong has never seen anyone more beautiful.

The ride takes three times longer than usual, so preoccupied with taking selfies that the sun has started to dip underneath the ocean line by the time they make it to their destination. Dongmyeong leads them to the pier, swinging his legs over the edge when he sits down, shoes close to the water. He catches Harin’s rippled reflection in the water coming up behind him.

“Any of the pics come out good?” he asks, prompting Dongmyeong to pull his phone out of his pocket. He begins swiping through them, Harin’s face pressing in closer, close enough that their temples rest against each other,

“All of them.” Dongmyeong hums after a while. He looks up to find Harin no longer looking at his phone but at him instead. “What? Something on my face?”

“Yeah, something called _drop-dead gorgeous_.”

“... I’m going to push you into the water.”

Harin laughs out of surprise, squeezing his hand, and knocking their shoulders together. They watch the sunlight fade, Dongmyeong resting his head in the crook of his neck, fingers laced together. He presses his lips to the fabric of Harin’s shirt, leaving an umber mark that Harin doesn’t bother wiping away.

-

Harin shows up at their house with his bike keys in one hand, two bottles of nail polish in the other, and Dongmyeong knows he’s going to be spending the night at his place. One bottle is black with a bedazzled handle and the other a glossy nude pink. Dongmyeong pulls him inside immediately.

The sky is churns in hues of blue, bleeding slowly to orange as the daylight dims, night slowly but surely creeping up on them, bringing her cloak of darkness along.

"You're late." Dongmyeong says by way of greeting.

"Work was a little wild today, apparently the new lemonade is to die for? I dunno, we were lined up to the door though and I couldn't get out on time. Besides," Harin shakes the two bottles of polish in his hand, they make a pleasant clinking noise, "had to pick this up."

"You didn't _have to_." Giwook says from the kitchen but he makes grabby hands at it anyways, "I'm not complaining though."

Harin hands over the bottle of black polish, ruffling Giwook's hair for good measure, handing over the pink tube to Dongmyeong.

"Okay you can go now." Dongmyeong jokes, pushing him away. Harin shoves him back, then immediately regrets it when he nearly topples out of his chair.

"Oh my shit sorry!"

"Hyung! You're like 20kg heavier than me, that's dangerous!" Dongmyeong whines, dramatically clutching his arm, “Look, now I can’t use this arm. How am I supposed to paint my nails now huh? Are you gonna do it?’

"Uh, absolutely I will." Harin says with nervous conviction, the tone of a man who very well knows he’s screwed before he has even begun. Dongmyeong doesn’t admit out loud just how fond he is, though by the incredulous look Giwook has, his face has given away all that information. He gently grasps the tips of Dongmyeong’s fingers and reaches for the brush, thumb subconsciously swiping over the smoothness of his nails, face screwing in concentration as he focuses on collecting just enough polish on the bristles.

“That’s too much.” Dongmyeong grimaces when Harin reveals a glob of polish but his hand still stays in his hold,

“How about this?” Harin asks, practically wiping all the polish off. Before Dongmyeong can say anything, Giwook cuts in,

“No, hyung, you suck at this. Look.” he shows Harin the perfect amount to grab with the brush, deft hands working carefully over his own nail. Harin still gets it wrong though Dongmyeong finds that he doesn't mind, especially when his soft, pink tongue peeks out between his lips in concentration.

Dongmyeong leans on his free hand, watching Harin work.

"How's kitty?" He asks. Harin licks his lips and he tracks the movement with rapt attention.

"Oh just fine, Geonhak-hyung recently bought another bag of cat food for her. This time he's trying that one brand apparently every scientist is talking about."

"Hmm… must be nice being pampered like that."

"Kitty? I thought her name was baby?" Giwook mumbles, tilting his head to the side, eyes never straying from his work. He’s already got his right hand done, a nice even spread that’s quickly drying to a matte finish. Harin shrugs, swiping half of the brush onto Dongmyeong’s finger,

"Kitty, baby, buttercup, chili crab, she's got a bunch of names. Every house calls her something different."

"And she answers to all of them?" Giwook looks astonished, eyes shining with question. Donmgyeong pats his cheek lovingly, letting Harin answer,

"I think she just answers to whoever makes a noise in her direction. She's real friendly like that." Harin dips into the bottle of polish again, Dongmyeong’s ring finger held gently between his fingers.

"I can't believe she doesn't have a home."

"Sure she does." Harin argues, looking pointedly at Giwook. The polish collects at the tip of the brush from where it's hovering above Dongmyeong's half-done nail, dripping a viscous blob right onto the center. "Sometimes home isn't just one place but plenty, yknow?"

"We're not talking about the cat anymore are we?"

"Do you want us to be?"

"I-" Giwook looks between them, "You-" he points an accusatory finger at Harin, then at him, "Are you guys conspiring against me?"

"Not at all." They say in unison.

"...Okay I think it's time for bed." he pushes away from the dinner table, three nails still undone, scurrying away just as Dongmyeong makes a grab at him,

"The sun is still up!" he says, attempting to yank him back down. Harin grips his hand when he fusses too much, futilely trying to settle him.

"It's summer, the sun is always up." Giwook, the absolute _weasel_ , slithers out of his grasp, throwing them both a knowing, rather withering look, “Besides, I don't wanna be third-wheeling when you guys put on a movie and make heart eyes at each other.”

Dongmyeong turns to Harin, placing a hand over his heart, 

“Hey… do we really make love eyes at each other?”

“You’re doing it right now.” Harin points out, “Not that you can help it, I’m so lovable.”

“Hyung… kiss my ass.” Dongmyeong sticks his tongue out at him, screeching when Harin tries to kiss it, heart hammering a staccato against his rib cage. His hands are clammy all of a sudden, and he’s thankful the other doesn’t comment on it.

“Anyways, the Giwookie issue.” Harin hums, 

“You know about it too?”

“Are you kidding me? Hyungu doesn’t ever stop freaking out about how much they like Giwook.”

"You know what we need to do?"

"Yep," Harin nods sagely, "we need to parent trap them."

"That's… not going to work. We aren't twins."

"Okay then." Harin shakes his head, "I have no idea what we need to do."

Dongmyeong scoffs, his face aching with how hard he smiles at him, sitting still again so that Harin can finish up his nails as best he can. He shakes his head though,

“You’re so lucky you’re cute, I would have kicked your ass for being stupid otherwise.”

“Oh I know,” Harin chuckles, swiping half of the brush onto his finger once more, “but you’re my baby, I’d let you hit me.”

“I’ll do it.” Dongmyeong spits back, “Don’t think I won’t!”

“I know you will, baby!”

His nails are a mess when Harin deems it a finished job, dusting his hands of imaginary dirt, whistling off-pitch at his own work,

“Looks good right?” He asks, grabbing Dongmyeong’s fingers and examining his still-drying nails. Dongmyeong wiggles his fingers and flutters his eyelashes,

“Only because I make them look good.” he jokes. Harin agrees easily with him, as he always does,

“Sure do. Anyway, wanna get that movie started while your nails dry?”

“Yeah, duh.” he leads them back into the living, plopping down onto the couch and letting Harin choose the movie. When he joins him on the couch, Dongmyeong throws his legs over his lap, getting comfortable.

Harin’s hand closes over his ankle, thumbing at the jut of bone there, fingers warm against him. Dongmyeong throws his arms around his shoulders, careful of his nails, suddenly overwhelmed by the butterflies in his stomach. Harin laughs, maneuvering him until he’s fully seated on his lap, arms wrapped around his waist,

“Better?”

“Yeah.” Dongmyeong breathes, letting Harin knock their heads together gently, completely ignoring the movie. “Better.”

Giwook comes into the living part way through the film, nails fully done now, face contorted into something between smug and disgusted,

“Told you guys it would end up like this.” he gestures vaguely to them. Harin waves him off, 

“You could be like this too with two _whole people_ if you wanted.” he says just as Dongmyeong waves him over with,

“Shut up and come join us.”

“Uhm.” Giwook stalls by the doorway and Dongmyeong can see the mad spiral of thoughts clouding his head.

“He’s not talking about us.” Dongmyeong assures him, “Go get popcorn and come here!”

Harin pulls him closer into his embrace, laughing at Giwook’s slack and unimpressed expression, shimmying so both of them leave enough room for him. He ends up joining them, phone buzzing incessantly the whole time. Dongmyeong shares a knowing look with Harin, though they both refrain from saying anything.

They end up falling asleep on the couch, a tight fit for the three of them, Dongmyeong squishing his face against Harin’s neck, Giwook’s cheek pressed against his back. Dongmyeong's nails are uneven and too thick in some spots for his liking, but he adores them. He shows them off to anyone who will look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HR, gesturing to his neighbourhood cat: lots of homes love her and she loves them all too  
> GW, eyeballs shaking: am i... the cat


	3. Summer to Fall

When Dongmyeong was 15, Harin got his hands on a pair of tickets to a late night showing of some big name horror film. It wasn’t anything spectacular, a two-hour screening cobbled together with jump scares and a loose storyline, pumped out just in time for Halloween, a thinly veiled cash grab that teenagers his age flocked to for easy fun. 

The problem wasn’t the lackluster movie title but rather the way Harin got those tickets in the first place. It had been given to him by another classmate before she fell sick and had told him to make good use of the tickets without her.

Dongmyeong had been positively ripe with jealousy for the first time, had known it in the way his chest burned as if scorned by Harin’s words, had even managed to find fault in the way he shifted nervously on his feet, something he usually found endlessly endearing.

“So you were just gonna go with her?”

“Well yeah, she asked.”

“And you were just gonna go?”

“It’s free movie tickets.” Harin shrugged, the line of his shoulders broad and bold, eclipsed by the way the fabric was pulled taut over it. His sweater was tied around his waist, still too warm in the day for it. 

Dongmyeong huffed through his nose, irritation building in the back of his throat like bile. Jealousy reared its big, hideous head and sharp teeth, sinking into the skin of his feelings.

“I don’t wanna go.” he said with an air of finality. He turned away from Harin then, pulling his bag tighter to him as he pulled Giwook away by the crook of his elbow, ignoring the crestfallen look on his face. Giwook followed easily, though the questioning look on his face meant Dongmyeong would be answering to it sooner or later.

“Myeongie, wait.” Harin fell into step with them, rounding to the front to stop them from walking any further. He waved the tickets again, “Is it ‘cause Giwookie can’t come? I’m sorry, there’s only two tickets.”

“It-” Dongmyeong’s mood soured even further, he brushed past Harin harder than he’d intended to, who let him go this time, “I just don’t wanna go.”

“Bye hyung.” Giwook called out behind him obediently. He waved with his free hand and no doubt Harin waved back, though Dongmyeong didn’t look, fixated on the greyed and cracked sidewalk.

“Mn, see ya Giwookie, Myeongie.”

Dongmyeong didn’t respond, though his grip on Giwook tightened considerably. It wasn’t until several blocks away did his friend make a soft noise of protest.

“Myeong…” he whined, “We’re going the wrong w- _are you crying_?!” his words died in his throat when he’d caught Dongmyeong sniffling, turning him around to look at his no doubt pinking face.

“No!” he cried, wiping at the tears that threatened to fall. Giwook rubbed his cheeks, bottom lip caught between milk-white teeth, fret worried across his softened features.

“Okay… okay, let’s go home, Myeong.” He soothed as best he could, rubbing at the top of Dongmyeong’s head the way Harin always did. Giwook’s hand was smaller and less sure but he tried to take comfort in it all the same.

Giwook dutifully walked him home, back stiff and straight as he took purposeful steps, this time in the right direction of their street, never letting go of Dongmyeong. They took the long way home, avoiding the school grounds just in case Harin was still around there, opting instead for the busier main street, blending in with the throng of students also homebound. The streets blurred from his tears but he held on for long enough that they got home without much of a hassle.

“Do you want to come inside for a bit?” Dongmyeong asked as he unlocked his front door. Giwook shook his head, already backing away, 

“I can’t, I already promised Hyungu-hyung I would go to his place today, I’m sorry.” He looked a little remorseful, and Dongmyeong couldn't help but laugh.

“It’s fine, it’s not like any of us expected this to happen.” Dongmyeong gestured vaguely to his face, the stream of tears drying on his skin. Giwook chewed his lip in thought, then reached out and squeezed his hands,

“Text me if you need anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dongmyeong waved him off, throwing him a cheeky smile over his shoulder, though he suspected his tears made him look more pitiful than anything, “go see your favourite hyung.”

“He’s not-” Giwook stopped himself, ears pinking at the teasing tone, lips downturned in a soft pout. “I’m going now.”

Dongmyeong kissed his head before sending him off, running up the stairs in a flurry and shutting himself in his room. Dongju was still gone, leaving their shared room empty and quiet, the curtains drawn back to let the sun in but otherwise undisturbed. He threw himself face down onto his pillow, muffling his bitter scream as he fought to curb his cries.

It wasn't that Dongmyeong thought crying was a bad thing. His parents had taught him otherwise, that emotions should be felt before they could be dealt with accordingly, that repression was a farce in the face of a healthy countenance. No, it felt more that he was ashamed to be crying over such a frivolous, diminutive problem.

Harin wasn’t his, by any means, or any sense of the word. They were friends, had always been friends, and Dongmyeong had seen him grow from a soft honeyed boy to a teenager with a keen sense of humour and an alluring eye smile. It have would been in poor taste not to notice the sharp of his eyes, the cut of his jaw, the delicate shape of his fingers, Harin was beautiful. It shouldn’t have been shocking that he was seeing someone.

Yet, he’d wept something bitter and ugly about it, had felt something akin to heartbreak rattle inside of him, and felt even worse when he’d come to terms with the fact that he had no reason to feel that way.

Dongmyeong had fallen asleep, somewhere caught between crying himself tired and finding comfort in being unconscious so that he wouldn’t have to face his unfounded jealousy head on. An hour or so had passed by the time he awoke again, roused by the soft rapting against his door,

“Hm.” he groused drowsily, rubbing at the edge of his lashline with his finger, chasing sleep from his lashes. His mother popped her head inside, sweet smile on her face,

“You wanna tell me what Harin’s doing, pacing outside our home right now?”

Dongmyeong stood up abruptly, stalking over to his window, overlooking their front yard. Sure enough, Harin was standing there, hands shoved into the pouch of his pullover, hovering by the door and fluttering away, again and again and again. He sat back down on his bed, sighing,

“...No.”

“Dongyeong-ah.” His mother sat down beside him, pulling at him until his head rested in the crook of her neck and he smelled the fragrant perfume on her skin. “Did you two fight?”

“No, I dunno... It’s stupid, I dunno.”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid.” She said automatically, hand coming up to rub soothing circles against his upper arm. Her hands were softer than Harin’s, fingers less bony and defined, though the warmth that came with it was comforting, it wasn’t the same.

“...He.” Dongmyeong started, then stopped, suddenly realizing just how weird it seemed to be upset about something so trivial. “He wanted to go see a movie tonight.”

“Oh? You love going to the movies with him. You said he always buys the snacks.”

“He _does_ , except this time… this time he got tickets from some girl in his class and, and they were supposed to go together but she got sick and now he wants to go with me instead and-”

“-And you feel second-rate.” she finished for him. Dongmyeong nodded glumly, breath rushing out of him in one fell swoop, letting her squeeze him tighter.

“And I feel second-rate.” he parroted. He’d long since cried himself dry of tears and had wallowed in his own self-pity for long enough that it was starting to feel tiring. He didn’t cry when his mom hugged him, only sagged further into her embrace and breathed in her perfume, the absence of sun-soaked skin roaring back at him.

“Honey,” she started, petting his hair softly, “have you ever wondered why he’s always coming to you instead of anyone else?”

“...’Cause he babies me.”

“Giwookie is your age too, you know. I don’t see Harin doing half the things for Giwookie that he would do for you.”

“...Then, it’s ‘cause I’m his friend.”

“A very well-loved friend.” she smoothed his hair out of his eyes, though he shook his bangs back just as quickly, “Don’t you think?”

“Mom,” he sighed, “he asked me _after_ she got sick.”

“He asked you _first_ out of everyone,” she tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, eyes soft as she gently pinched his cheek, “because he’s always asked you first, because you’ve always been his first choice. Harinnie has always put you first, honey.”

“Mom…”

“Think about it, lovely. When he got his bike, who did he show first?”

“Me.”

“Mhm, and when he got his first paycheck what did he do first?”

“Bought me lipgloss...”

“And who was it that took you to the new coffee shop and bakery on opening day last year?”

“Hyung did…”

“Did he ask anyone else to go?”

“No.” Dongmyeong’s face felt pinched with emotion and he furrowed his brows, “Okay, okay, I get it.” he rubbed at his face with the back of his hand, feeling his cheeks heat. The doorbell sounded then, a quick, bright sound that caught both of their attention, and his mom rose, smoothing her hands down her pants,

“Looks like someone’s at the door,” she winked at him, “I better go get it.”

Dongmyeong _hadn’t_ thought about it. That Harin sought him out first above everyone else had been commonplace knowledge to everyone in their friend group, he for one had taken it for granted. They’d never talked about it, hadn’t needed to, not until that classmate had given them reason to.

“Hi aunty.” Harin’s nervous voice filtered up the stairs, pulling him back to the present, “Is Dongmyeongie home?”

“I don’t think Myeongie wants to see anyone right now, Harin-ah.” she replied, louder than her natural disposition. “I think he’s got a bad case of heartbreak. Seems like some bad person hurt his feelings.”

“Oh…” Dongmyeong jumped to his feet and raced down the stairs just as Harin made to turn away, “Okay aunty…”

“ _Mom_!” he cried out, pushing past her to get to the door, “It’s fine, I’m here, I got it from here.” 

She threw them both a knowing look, bumping shoulders with him as she disappeared around back inside,

“Sure, honey.” she stopped just as she was about to round the corner, “Harinnie?”

“Yes, aunty?” Harin drew to his full height, chin held high under her withering gaze. The length of his lashes quivered nervously and she smiled, her teeth glinting something sinister,

“Try not to make my son cry again unless he’s laughing.” She disappeared over the corner. Harin nodded anyways,

“Yes, aunty! I won’t!” he chirped.

Dongmyeong dug his toes against the floor, unsure how to proceed now that they were alone, eyes downcast but still glancing over to Harin.

“Hi, hyung.” he said finally, surprised when Harin crowded against him, taller frame draping easily over his body,

“Oh _Myeongie_ I’m sorry.” Harin apologized profusely, wrapping his arms around him and pressing him close.

“I’m sorry too-”

“She’s just a friend, I promise, and even if she did like me, I don’t like her. Seriously.”

“Hyung-”

“She’s not my type okay and besides you’re so much cuter and I like you way more and you’re always my first choice and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“ _Hyung_!” Dongmyeong squeezed him, pressing his lips against the crown of his hair, the soft, downy strands smelling of the sun. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

“Okay.” Harin eased off him a little, just enough that Dongmyeong could stand up straight, still pressed into his space. “Okay. I’m really sorry again. Forget about the movie, let’s just hang out.”

His brows drew close together, hands still clasped around his waist and Dongmyeong draped his arms over Harin’s broadened shoulders, staring at the pink of his lips, the worry in his eyes, the sharp of his teeth. Divinity had not a name before Harin.

“No,” he shook his head, hugging him again just because he could, letting Harin squeeze the breath out of him, “let’s go see it, it’s free movie tickets, after all.”

“If that’s what you want, baby.”

“Yeah.” Dongmyeong breathed, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. “It’s what I want.”

The sun shone down on them, and he could taste it in the back of his throat, relishing in the way it always clung to Harin’s skin.

Going to see the movie had been a bad idea, of course it was. Dongmyeong scared easily at the dumbest things and they wasted a good chunk of Harin’s money grabbing snacks before throwing it into the air in surprise. Harin had screamed so loud, a worker came by their aisle and asked them to leave; something they quickly did, scrambling off with as much of their dignity intact as possible.

“Whatever,” Harin scoffed, the tips of his ears burning like a set of agate stones, “It was a bad movie anyways.”

Dongmyeong reached for his hand, found it sweaty and wracked with tremors, just like his.

“Yeah,” he agreed, squeezing his hand and finding Harin squeezing back just as hard, “it sucked.”

Above them, the sky was alight with stars, dancing against a dark blue that lay thick like a curtain over the world. In his eyes, Harin swirled pink, and red, and full of love.

-

Dongmyeong is part way through highlighting a section of his notes when his phone buzzes, screen lighting up to show a background of himself. It had been a moment of vanity but Harin had taken the picture of him and it gave him pause. A long enough pause that Dongmyeong had grown worried, peering over his shoulder and looking at the picture.

"Fuck." Harin laughed, something reverent in his voice, "You're stunning."

It has stayed as his background ever since.

Dongmyeong glances over to the message though he immediately knows who it's from.

[🥁😎]: we should study

[☀️💛]: we dont have any classes in common

[🥁😎]: you know what i mean :|

[☀️💛]: do I?

[🥁😎]: what are you being so difficult for…. I wanna see my baby :(

[☀️💛]: okieee you just had to say that. library?

[🥁😎]: meet me at my work place instead? 

[☀️💛]: gladly (:

He stuffs his notebooks into his bag, alongside his laptop and highlighters, then reaches for his tube of lipgloss too. It’s nearly empty now and he makes a mental note to pick up another tube on his way back. Yonghoon is sitting on their couch when he finally makes his way out the door, chin cushioned on his hands as he watches Hyungu write something down for Giwook. 

He can only suspect that they’re also studying, if the way Giwook’s little tongue peeks out from behind his lips is anything to go by. He looks positively chagrined, and only seems to be more vexed when Hyungu leans into his space,

“What sort of answer is that?”

“Wha- am I wrong?” he sounds incredulous, which seems to spur Yonghoon to action. He slides off the couch, melding between the two of them perfectly, 

“Hyung, go away, you don’t even go here.” Hyungu pushes at him, but Yonghoon catches his wrist and kisses his fingers,

“But I missed you two.”

“Hyung,” Giwook whines, moving aside to give the couple some space. It doesn’t work; Hyungu shuffles closer to him and Yonghoon follows like a puppy. “You were literally just sat at the couch, it’s impossible to miss us.”

“But I _did_.” he rubs his head against Giwook’s shoulder. Dongmyeong clears his throat loudly, inspecting his nails when they all snap to attention,

“I’m heading out for a bit.” he says by way of greeting. He fondly ruffles Giwook’s hair on his way out, who bristles and pinks, “It’s good to see you lovebirds!”

“Wait, where you going?” Hyungu tugs at his sweater to slow him. It’s bigger around the shoulders than he’s used to, and longer too, with billowy sleeves that he doesn’t bother rolling up, letting it fall over his hands. Giwook gestures to his outfit,

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks, “He’s going to see Harin-hyung.”

“Wha- the _audacity_!” Yonghoon exclaims, throwing a hand over his heart, “He kicked me and Hyungu out of his shop because he said he was busy!”

“Yeah,” Dongmyeong pulls his shoes on, grabbing his bag and throwing a smug smile over his shoulder, “He’s busy hanging with me. See ya~”

Just as he’s yanking open the door, Yonghoon gripes again,

“As a fellow ass man to another I really thought he would treat me better than this.”

Dongmyeong slams the door behind him.

The coffeeshop that Harin works at is the same one he took Dongmyeong to on opening day when he was 14 years old. He somehow still has the job. The bell rings sweetly when he opens the door and finds Harin sitting at one of the smaller tables, barely big enough to hold their study materials, drumming idly with his pens. His face lights up when he sees Dongmyeong, waving him over, 

“Myeongie!”

“Hyungie!” He deposits his bag on the empty chair, kicking Harin’s shoe to make room for him, “Lemme grab a drink first, watch my bag?”

“Ah,” Harin waves him off, standing up to join Dongmyeong, “there’s no one here, it’s okay. I also want another coffee.”

“Then sit down, I’ll buy you a coffee.” Dongmyeong argues, placing a hand on his chest and attempting to push him back down, feeling corded muscle flex beneath his fingers when Harin pushes back,

“What? No,” Harin places a hand over his, squeezing his fingers, thumb swiping against his nails, “let me buy it.”

“...Fine.” he makes no move to withdraw his hand, fixated on the way Harin’s thumb looks against the tan of his skin; Harin doesn’t move either.

“Great.” the fluorescent lights give Harin an omni-directional glow, the planes of his face smooth and handsome, and Dongmyeong purses his lips to stymie the rising want to kiss him silly.

They are reluctant to part, only when Harin’s coworker loudly clears her throat and taps her nails against the register do they snap back to attention, turning to her. Dongmyeong shoots her a smile, sees something familiar in the shape of her eyes and slope of her nose, though doesn’t think much past it.

“Sorry.” he says sheepishly, pulling away from Harin. It doesn’t matter how far he goes though, Dongmyeong takes a few steps away and he follows in his form, fingers catching on the hem of his sweater,

“What do you want, Myeong?”

“Something seasonal, maybe the sweet potato latte?” he ponders on that, eyes raking over the menu bolted to the wall. Harin hums behind him, hands still fisted in his shirt,

“And I’ll just get another top up on my coffee please.”

“Don’t be too loud about it, Harin,” his coworker says, pressing a finger to her lips, “boss will hear you stealing her coffee again.” 

As if on cue, a tiny little lady comes out from the back, hair dressed up in a bun and swathed in a cardigan. She takes one look at them and her face darkens with a scowl, the wrinkles of her face growing ever prominent.

"Harin, you're making my home go broke, you scoundrel! Go somewhere else to study!!" The owner yells when she sees that he’s still there.

"But I work here, I earned these free coffee perks!"

Dongmyeong can't help giggling at their back-and-forth. When he pulls his wallet out to pay, Harin waves him off, the shine of his nails catching in the light, nail beds a soft, attractive blush,

"Don't worry, I said I got it, baby Myeong." He says, to which his boss gapes at him,

"And you won't pay for your own?!"

"It's the principal of the thing, boss. Gotta take care of my Myeong, yknow?"

They grab their drinks and sit back down, Harin shoving his books to the side to accommodate his things. Dongmyeong raises an eyebrow at him,

“Why did you pick such a small table?” he demands to know, setting his drink down and pulling out his myriad of highlighters.

“It’s just two of us!” Harin argues back, though his sharp eyes are softened with fondness.   
This close together, there’s little space for their legs to stretch their legs out, instead tangling together, ankles locked. Dongmyeong is reminded of all the times they’ve woken up together, warm with sleep and fitted together perfectly. Harin closes his hand over the cuff of his shirt, slipping his thumb under the sleeve and rubbing at his hand,

“Is this my shirt?” he asks, his smile broadening impossibly further when Dongmyeong nods, “How come it’s so much prettier on you…”

“Because I make it pretty.” he says boldly, reaching for his drink with his free hand. The glass is warm to the touch, a kind balm against the biting wind that’s begun to settle around them, indicative of autumn.

Harin licks his lips, eyes tracking the movement of Dongmyeong’s hands wrapped around the glass, nodding a little dumbly,

“Okay, geez you lovebirds, cut it out.” the same coworker that had taken their order not even two minutes before calls out, miming a gagging motion, tongue lolling out. Harin waves her off but his eyes never stray.

It is… insurmountably difficult to focus on studying even with the threat of exams looming over Dongmyeong. He finds that he is effortlessly distracted by just how handsome Harin is, the thin of his face, the dark of his brows, the pink of his lips. Dongmyeong thinks he might be the luckiest person in the world, witnessing his beauty nearly every day like this. 

The highlighters he’s pulled out lay uselessly on the table, rolling away from him and his neatly lined papers, coming to a stop in front of Harin’s mess. Harin picks one up and twirls it in his left hand, and with his right, tosses Dongmyeong a carelessly folded note.

“Why aren’t you studying?” he asks, reaching for the note, immediately finding offense in the way Harin has written _Myeongie dumb_ , “What the fuck, hyung.” 

“Open it!” he taps Dongmyeong’s highlighter against the rim of his coffee cup, producing a crystal clear clinking sound, feet wrapping around his leg.

“What else could you possibly say that could save this note…” Dongmyeong grumbles but unfurls the note anyways. He almost wishes he hadn’t made such a loud fuss about it, when he reveals the other side of the note that says _dumb cute_. He can feel his cheeks burning, the flush traveling all the way down to his chest, where it tangles with his rapidly increasing heartbeat.

Harin waggles his eyebrows at him, biting at the highlighter cap, and Dongmyeong watches the tip of his tongue press against the plastic, between the sharp of pearly teeth. He shakes his head at him,

“You’re so gross.” he pushes his shoulder playfully, though Harin catches his hand all the same, hand squeezing around him,

“Yeah but you love it.”

“Maybe I do.”

“ _O-kay_ ,” Harin’s coworker interrupts them with a clap of her hands, “I’m leaving now, not because my shift is over but because I can’t stand feeling single anymore.”

Harin loudly kisses his fingers, the press of his petal-soft lips warm against the pads of his digits,

“You’re just jealous you don’t have Myeong’s love.” Dongmyeong wonders briefly if he deserves a kick to the shins at that, then perishes the thought when he realizes Harin’s legs are still locked around his own, making it nearly impossible to move. She rolls her eyes as she walks past them, though her smile is teasing.

“Bye Harin, bye Dongmyeong!”

“See ya!”

“Uh, bye…” he turns to Harin, “Hyung, who was that? She looks familiar.”

“You don’t remember her?” he laughs, the crinkle of his eyes elongating sweetly. “She gave us the movie tickets to that awful horror movie like, 5 years ago.”

Perhaps Dongmyeong had no reason to worry after all, all those years ago. That Harin had chosen him before and still continues to be with him now is without question anymore. He pulls their hands back toward him, pressing a barely-there kiss to the prominence of Harin’s thumb bone, lashes lowered though he can feel his heated gaze on him. It has been as inevitable as the darkening of the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like to think that the girl who gave HR the movie tickets took one look at teenage HR and then saw him look at teenage DM and went "oh cough cough, sorry can't go anymore"


	4. Fall to Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've done it! This is the end of the story, the "last" chapter is just a little epilogue that will come out sooner or later hehe. This is it for the main story though, thank you for coming along on this wonderful journey with me!

On Giwook’s 19th birthday, they found the most lovable man in existence. It was a joint celebration, had always been, ever since they’d come into each other’s lives. Like every year, they held it at Harin’s cafe, sat close and nestled in the corner of the shop where the bulb above the table flickered periodically, casting an inconsistent light across their faces.

Harin had pushed a cake between him and Giwook, hand made by the man himself during his shift (an allowance the boss let him have only because her favourite person was Giwook, with his fluffy hair and pretty eyes), big and yellow and domed. It had a pair of long, floppy ears and a big, wet nose. Dongmyeong looked at it and found a pair of bright, glassy eyes staring back at him.

“Who’s this supposed to be?” Giwook asked, shoving his finger into the middle of its face and licking off the frosting.

“Hey!” Dongmyeong yelled, swatting him, “You got rid of the nose!”

“It’s a _dog_ , y’know, the woof-woof-bark kind?” Harin retorted, though his tone belied his fondness. He crossed his arms, watching as Dongmyeong and Giwook picked up their forks and dug into the middle of the face like a pair of ravenous children.

“Don’t you usually try to make it look like one of them, though?” Hyungu asked, silently opening his mouth for a bite.

“Yeah, last year you made a hamster that looked just like Hamtaro.” Giwook said as he fed Hyungu the piece on his fork. Dongmyeong nodded, licking the icing from the corner of his mouth, watching as Harin followed the movement with undivided, nearly slack-jawed attention.

“A few years before that you made a yellow cat.” Hyungu added, elbowing Harin in the side, spurring him back to the moment. He shook his head, eyes darting from the dip of his lip to his hands, to the cake.

“You’ve also made a fox and a penguin before too.” Dongmyeong pointed his fork accusingly at Harin, who shrugged one shoulder and waved them off,

“You kids… what’s wrong with just wanting to do something different this year?” he asked, crinkling his nose at them. Hyungu pushed him,

“We’re the same age!” he yelled just as Giwook flung icing in his direction with a venomous cry,

“The cake is yellow, your favouritism is showing!”

“Giwook-ah,” Dongmyeong laughed, “you love dogs though, it’s a split between us.”

“...Harin-hyung didn’t even deny it.” He grumbled though he said no more, sinking into the soft cushion seats. Dongmyeong made brief eye contact with him, before Harin smiled at him, offering no words; he ducked his head down, embarrassed.

They finished the cake between the four of them as they always did, conversation a comforting lull that Dongmyeong contributed little too. Outside, the sky darkened, the window panes dimming until they only reflected his face when he looked on. The snow was bright and cold, falling evermore, blanketing the city.

He’d found that despite having the most energy out of their group, he’d enjoyed listening to the comforting timber, the sweet whistle, and soft cadence of his friends more, a gentle and kindly melody to his ears. Hyungu took a sip of his coffee, had forgone his usual iced americanos for something warmer, hands wrapped around the delicate white of the ceramic mug, fingers tipped with the same nail polish as Giwook.

“So, should we stay for open mic night?” he asked, tapping his nails against the cup.

Giwook did the same, ears blazing with colour when Hyungu reached across the table and linked their pinkies. Dongmyeong thought, not for the first time, why neither of them have really made a move yet; it perished the moment he looked at Harin, and found love unbidden in the dark heat of his eyes.

“Don’t suppose why not.” Harin shrugged, though he never broke eye contact with him, lashes tipped with forthright fondness. Dongmyeong found himself nodding along,

“I think it’d be fun.”

And fun it was. 

The cafe rarely did something like this, hosting an open mic night where the front of the shop, pressed against the window, stood a small stage. Throughout most of the year they’d held decorations on it: a frost-white tree for Christmas that Harin was overly fond of, staff-carved pumpkins sat on stools for Halloween, large plates of artfully crafted songpyeong on display for Chuseok, stuffed paper mache hearts hung from the bannister of the ceilings for both Valentine’s day and White day, a myriad of fake fireworks to bring in the new year.

Between those celebrations, however, they cleared the stage and set up a simple mic and stool, an open invitation to the brave and bold.

Harin and Giwook were brave, not bold while he and Hyungu were bold, not brave. Naturally, none of them had ever stepped foot onto the stage. That night felt different though; there had been a weird crackle of energy in the air, rippling through them when hopeful artists began pouring in, a tall, limber man following in their steps, eyes caught on the stage with a sort of fervor that seemed to grip the table.

Hyungu’s face was carefully slack with emotion but his eyes shone like the north star, tongue poking out to wet his lips over and over and over. Giwook watched, equally enraptured, over the rim of his mug, lashes quivering with something akin to fear, to thrill. Underneath the table, Harin reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together and tracing an abstract pattern with his thumb. Dongmyeong squeezed their hands together, deigning to let go.

The handsome man had a handsome voice, too. He held the microphone with reverence when he’d walked up to the stage, gentle like the swaying of wind through a flowerfield, petals tipped to its direction. He sang well, voice warm like a well-lit fireplace, comforting as they stood just out of reach of him, listening to the way sadness seemed to sodden his tongue. He seemed like a lover, both scorned and delighted in, in the draw of one breath.

When he sang, the planes of his face caught the quiet, dimmed light of the cafe, highlighted on the spread of his brow, the curve of his nose, the long of his lashes. Dongmyeong hadn’t needed to look at anyone else to know that he had enthralled every breathing body in the place, he’d felt it in the sharp gasp from Giwook beside him.

When he’d finished, Hyungu slammed his hand on the table, fingers pinking from the force. Giwook seemed to be vibrating on the same wavelength, throwing a hand over Hyungu’s, though much softer. Harin’s eyebrows drew together in astonishment but before he could say anything, the pair had looked around the table with big, imploring eyes,

“We _need_ him.” They both said with conviction, unfazed by just how similar their thought processes were. Harin pursed his lips, then turned to him, jerking his chin toward the man’s direction,

“Myeong,” he drawled, the way he always did when he was about to joke, dazzling mirth in the white of eyes, “you should talk to him. You’re the cutest, he’ll fall for you immediately.”

Dongmyeong frowned, pouting further when Hyungu and Giwook only seemed to agree, nodding keenly, pushing at him.

“Wha- I don’t want him to fall for me!” the rest of it was left unsaid, one part because it was a quip, two parts because it had never needed to be said. Dongmyeong lay fixed on Harin, like the bewitched to the woods, had not seen anyone else but him, had not needed to.

They had all looked around the table then, a little listless, a little disoriented, watching with nervous energy abound as the man sat down by himself, the sweat on his brow glistening. Dongmyeong poked Giwook in the side,

“You’re the cutest after me, you go.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, yes.” Hyungu agreed, nodding along, “Don’t worry, we’ll be right here, if anything goes wrong we’ll come help.”

“Mhm!” Harin hummed, “If you succeed, hyung will buy you chicken!”

They ushered him from his seat, watching with rapt attention as he rose on shaking legs, knees knocking together, stumbling over to the man. He smiled when he saw Giwook, radiance splitting across the flush of his face, pulling him easily into conversation.  
When he stood up, he rose and rose and rose, until Giwook’s head dipped underneath the sharp of his chin, before hunching in on himself. He followed Giwook back to their table, before they realized just how openly they were staring at him, eyes darting wildly around the room.

“Guys this is… uhm.” Giwook flushed, chewing his lip and trying to stop his lashes from trembling. The man waved at them, sitting down on the chair that Harin hurriedly pulled over,

“I’m Yonghoon!” He introduced himself, smile sweet and serene.

“You were singing like you just got dumped.” Harin said, rubbing his chin. Dongmyeong lightly kicked him under the table, hoping his expression parlayed his judgement. They were trying to befriend him, not horrify him.

“I was singing because I was lonely.” Yonghoon admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, shoulders drawn together in a bout of nervous energy, “I don’t really have anyone to break my heart.”

Both Hyungu and Giwook looked at him like perhaps they would like to take that chance on him.

It came as no surprise then, when they became closer, closer, closer. Yonghoon fit in easily with them, filled a space that they didn’t know they had, what with how tightly knit they were. He gave easily, anything from the last sip of his drink to the coat on his back, and gave back even more easily. Yonghoon loved in spades, love graced on the tip of his tongue when he spoke, love interlaced between the spaces of his fingers when he held them, love pressed into the cavity of his chest when he breathed. 

He fixated on Hyungu the most, followed behind him most often, nose turned to his direction in reverence, seemingly in love from the start. Hyungu fixated on him in equal parts too, with eyes bright and shining whenever Yonghoon spoke, something akin to utter awe folded into the quiet shape of his lips. They in turn, fixated on Giwook, who withdrew into himself.

Dongmyeong watched it happen with a fascination of misery to the morbid. He watched Giwook turn his face when they sat too close, fingers lacing together almost naturally as breathing, all but falling into embrace whenever they were around each other, effortlessly drawn together. He watched the white of his knuckles grow ever-whiter, gripped around the strings of his bass, the way his grip slackened when Yonghoon draped himself over one side, Hyungu pressing against his other side, the dizzying spiral in the dark of his eyes when they complimented him and he stumbled through his words like a newborn deer, fumbling, fumbling, fumbling.

“You know,” Dongmyeong drawled, stifling a yawn and pulling Giwook closer to him, “You’re gonna have to talk to them at some point. It’s getting very obvious that you’re avoiding them.”

Giwook whined, high and soft in the back of this throat, rubbing his face into the crook of his neck. His grip on Dongmyeong’s shirt tightened, and legs, still sleep-warm, found their way between his, 

“‘m not avoiding them.” He argued petulantly. Dongmyeong laughed, ruffling his hair and kissing the top of his head,

“Please, you walked into our practice room first, saw them alone, and then walked backwards out. _Backwards_.”

“I-” Giwook stopped himself, huffing a hot, wet breath against his neck, “They were holding hands okay, you don’t just _do_ that to people you only see as friends.” 

“Ah but,” Dongmyeong smoothed his hands through Giwook’s hair again and again and again, “I don’t think your problem was seeing them together, was it?”

“You don’t know that.”

“I think,” he pressed on, squeezing onto Giwook a little harder, nosing at his hair, “you probably wanted to be there with them too.”

His assumption was met with silence and Dongmyeong took the terseness for what it was. He continued stroking his hair, sighing when Giwook’s phone buzzed incessantly on his bedside table.

“... I’m probably crazy for liking both.” Giwook finally said. Dongmyeong was quick to assuage his fear, kissing the top of his head, feeling the other trembling beneath his lips,

“Not at all.” He whispered. “You’ve loved Hyungu-hyung all your life, anyone can see. You’re also allowed to want to love the most lovable man in existence, too. Nothing wrong with that.” 

“How come you don’t love the most lovable man in existence then? If he’s so lovable?” Giwook shot back, a weak attempt at derailing the conversation.

“Because I love Harin-hyung.” Dongmyeong replied easily, then stopped.

It was true; one would be a fool to deny the overt way he looked at Harin, love clear across the flush of his face. The thing is… the thing is, he’d never been so forthright about it, hadn’t ever needed to be. It was evident in the way he smiled at him, held him close, nearly kissed the breath out of him when they spoke.

It stayed an ill-kept secret between their smiles, their fingers laced together, their foreheads pressed together. That Dongmyeong loved Harin was about as surprising as the Sun moving westward and slipping under the horizon. No one knew that better than Harin himself, surely.

“Why don’t you tell him that?” Giwook asked softly after a beat of silence. Dongmyeong laughed, then stifled a yawn mid-way through,

“He knows.”

Giwook became less skittish after that, though his eyes and countenance remained shaking at worst, quivering at best. Hyungu seemed more relieved than anyone, Dongmyeong could tell in the slow downturn of his lips, slowly lifting with every passing day. He smiled like the sun, bright and earnest, warmth cast between each fair tooth, sat between the tight spaces of his gums, absolutely sublime. 

Yonghoon surely thought so as well, swooning towards him almost instantly every time Hyungu did smile, the corners deep and pretty. Giwook, ever-infatuated, was left slack-jawed by it too. Slowly, surely, they fell together, sat tipped like an uncover jar of secrets, baring itself to the world.

“I missed this.” Harin admitted sheepishly one night, cuddling closer to him, hair tickling his nose. “Having you all to myself, no offense to our baby Giwookie.”

The past few months had been a blur; between finding Giwook in his bed nearly everyday and talking him down from the frenzy he’d worked himself up to, and Harin meddling in with the couple’s side, their band had felt distant. Though they splintered, they would never break, this truth he knew with the ferocity that could rival the heat of the sun.

Still, it had been difficult to get time with Harin like he was used to and though he didn’t complain, he found that he’d ached in an inexplicable way. The rare nights that Harin would stay over became ever more scarce and only when they’d come together again did Dongmyeong name his feelings. He’d missed him, terribly so.

Dongmyeong pressed his lips to his head, smelling the sun on him even though he knew he shouldn’t. Harin had taken a shower at his place, it made more sense if he smelled of Dongmyeong’s shampoo and bodywash yet.

Yet the sun lingered on his skin, lovely as ever, warm as ever, soothing as ever. He ran his hands through Harin’s hair, feeling the hair growing in from the undercut he’d sported over the summer and into the fall, thick strands laying where fuzz once did. Dongmyeong held him tighter to his chest, impossibly so, the beating of his chest was strikingly steady.

“I missed this too.” Dongmyeong confessed in earnest.

Though his curtains remained drawn, they did little to stymie the wayward city light streaming in through the cracks, casting elongated lines against the walls of his bedroom. They could not outshine Harin, even in the dark of night, the dead of winter.

Harin shifted a little; pressed tight against him, Dongmyeong could feel every subtle movement under his clothes. His hands rested on his waist, thumb rubbing circles against the jut of his bone there, and he moved just enough that he could softly rest their heads together. He smiled, something sluggish and slow in the sharp of his teeth, and Dongmyeong could have kissed it from him. 

Instead, he rubbed their noses together, letting Harin’s breath even out slowly, fanning across his face in gentle puffs. Perhaps it had been a moment of desperate affection or a mere accident, but Dongmyeong felt that their lips had connected in something akin to a kiss, gentle and sure. He hadn’t the mind to think about it, for slumber had found him shortly thereafter, coaxing him to dream with her delicate finger laid upon his cheek, and he went easily.

Distantly, Dongmyeong thought that he’d surely not felt so sun-kissed before.

-

They haven’t done this since they were young and definitely not since Yonghoon came into their lives. He’s excited, if the way his hands clench and unclench in Giwook’s sweater is anything to go by. They’d been working on their relationship lately, stayed instantly by Giwook’s honey-tipped hands whenever he trembled, always patient, always loving. Some days he’s so overwhelmed that he freezes, like an animal caught in the dark of the wild, unsure of how it had been found in the first place.

Dongmyeong knows he’s more in disbelief that he’s managed to snag both his childhood love _and_ the most lovable man in existence than anything else.

“What movies should we watch?!” Yonghoon speaks mostly to himself, rattling off film titles faster than his lips can form the words.

That last time they’d done this, Harin’s parents rented out some children’s halloween movies for them to watch and though they’d been scared stiff in every limb, the four of them sat stock stil, hands gripping one another. Giwook had nearly cried, he had been so scared, nails biting into the meat of Dongmyeong’s palm. In his other hand, Harin soothed circles into his skin with his thumb. His hands were clammy from fear.

“How about Coraline?” Harin suggests as he gets to the table, probably on break if the cup of coffee and plate of desserts is anything to go by. He pulls up a seat beside Hyungu and Dongmyeong, sliding him a plate and taking a sip of his still hot cup.

“We’re tryna have fun, not add to our ever-growing list of traumatic events.” Hyungu grumbles, swiping a partly eaten donut from Yonghoon’s plate and stuffing it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” Giwook agrees, his voice drawing the attention of both Hyungu and Yonghoon, delighting in the sound, “don’t ever forget that time we went to your house and Dongmyeong nearly _peed_ himself.”

Dongmyeong laughs him off, prying apart the bread in front of him, watching it split open to reveal its fluffy white inside, steaming billowing out of it.

“Here.” he pushes a piece into Harin’s mouth who quickly swallows his coffee to open his mouth. His teeth catch on Dongmyeong’s nail and he smiles apologetically, hand rubbing his thigh, warmth spreading all the way to the tips of his toes.

“I made that for you,” Harin shakes his head when he tries to feed him more, “I can’t just eat all of it.”

“I’ll do what I want with it since it’s for me.” He argues, pushing the piece past Harin’s lips, not missing the way he puckers them in a swift kiss to his fingertips.

“ _Anyways_...” Giwook cuts them both off, sipping his latte and tapping his fingers against the mug. It draws everyone’s attention, though Hyungu’s lashes flutter with an entirely different look,

“What?” Dongmyeong asks.

It’s then that Dongmyeong notices that hush that hangs over them. Giwook looks at him with exasperated eyes, something tired between the thin line of his pursed lips. Yonghoon stifles his laugh under the guise of a coughing fit, though the crinkle of his eyes makes him transparent.

“Movie ideas?” Giwook starts again, fingers twirling the spoon in his mug. This time, it’s Yonghoon who watched with rapt attention.

“Right.” Dongmyeong wrinkles his nose in thought, feeding Harin another piece of bread, who accepts it gently this time. “We need something that’s easy to watch.”

“Something we don’t actually care about.” Hyungu chimes in.

“That we can just put on for background noise.” Harin agrees.

“And make fun of the characters with ugly shoes.” Giwook nods.

“Oh okay, I get it,” Yonghoon hums, snapping his fingers, “ _13 Going On 30_ , then.”

They settle on it. Harin leans back in his chair, throwing an arm around the back of Dongmyeong’s chair, the other three track his movement with unhidden exasperation. Dongmyeong sticks his tongue out at the trio, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth, then steals Yonghoon’s other treat too for good measure. The cookie crumbles in his hand and lands on the table with little fanfare. They all stare at it, until Harin coughs to get their attention.

“Can’t wait.” He says with a smile. Dongmyeong can’t seem to stop staring at him, Harin can’t seem to mind.

Saturday morning finds Giwook in his bed, sticking cold feet against his calves, crowding into his space, tucking himself under Dongmyeong’s chin. Dongmyeong smoothes his hand over the back of Giwook’s nightshirt, still warm with sleep, distantly aware that it’s a habit he plucked straight from Harin.

“You good, baby?” he asks softly, voice still rough with sleep. He clears his throat once and closes his eyes again, letting Giwook get comfortable.

When Dongmyeong was born, he was a sullen baby, always crying himself into a stupor, sniffling through restless bouts of sleep and waking up to cry some more. Medical tests had shown him to be as healthy as any babe his age could be but not once did he stop his pitiful crying. Then, exactly two weeks after his birth, his parents found him miraculously quiet, the smallest of smiles gracing his face. Six years later he met Giwook and found out why.

Giwook is his darling, his baby, his best friend. It just so happens that Giwook likes being all those things, too.

“‘m nervous.” Giwook breathes against the crook of his neck, burying his face closer. Dongmyeong kisses his forehead, hand petting through his hair.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.” Dongmyeong soothes, though the attempt proves futile when Giwook only huffs, blowing a puff of warm air against his neck, tickling him.

“Yeah okay and what about Harin-hyung? You guys are attached at the hip.”

“That doesn’t matter. He knows that you come first.”

Dongmyeong finds that he easily believes his own words. Barring just how much he wants there to be something concret between him and Harin, he also knows that he has not once tried to split them up. He’s good that way, has always been good to him, to them. Harin loves Giwook too, eyes fond and glistening when he so much as breathes, the affection apparent and bright in his action.

It’s different to the way he loves Dongmyeong, he knows this in his heart of hearts. Harin loves him like warmed honey dripped into a cup of coffee had at first daylight, sweet and steady. He loves him like the swirling sky of blue bleeding to pink, endlessly dynamic. Harin loves him like fate fixed on the edge of the world, daring and quiet. Dongmyeong loves him just the same.

They end up redoing their nails to help calm Giwook’s nerves, spending the better part of their afternoon picking out colours and scrutinizing them. Giwook settles on the black tube of polish Harin had bought him months ago, ignoring the buzzing of his phone. Their groupchat is alight with messages, though it’s mostly Harin and Hyungu trying to settle on a popcorn brand for the evening. They stay out of it, one part because they don’t care and two parts because it’s amusing to see their bickering.

Dongmyeong’s phone vibrates then, a message from Harin no doubt.

[🥁😎]: you have to back me up on this, why are you being so quiet for  
[DM]: idkkkkk its kinda funny watching u lose this battle?

[🥁😎]: it’s unfair! hyung’s backing him up, it;s a 2 against 1! get in here!!!!!

[☀️💛]: … no (:

[🥁😎]: … :( youre lucky youre cute, i won't stay mad but i’ll remember this betrayal for the rest of my life

[☀️💛]: no you won’t

[🥁😎]: stop being right

“How’s it feel being stupidly and equally in love with your childhood friend?” Giwook teases, playing with the stickers on his phone case as he’s waiting for his nails to dry. 

The case is clear, and shows a candid polaroid of Hyungu strumming on a guitar, photo taken courtesy of Harin. Yonghoon had added a puppy sticker onto the side of it, slightly crooked but still endearing, saying with mirthful pride that Giwook was now carrying both of them with him. Dongmyeong thought he might have fainted on the spot, what with the way he’d immediately and deeply coloured.

“Absolutely great!” Dongmyeong laughs, picking up the nail file and focusing on making an even slope, “How’d you even know I was talking to him?”

“You’re kidding.” Giwook’s voice is exasperated, “You’re smiling like that? Who else would it be?”

Dongmyeong touches a hand to his cheek, feels it warm under his fingertips, and feels himself flush impossibly more. His phone buzzes again with another message from Harin.

“Whatever…”

“Why don’t you just go for it? It’s obvious it’s mutual.”

“Because...” Dongmyeong opens the message, and finds himself staring at Harin, earrings dangling a pretty sight, hair dark and long and fluffy, holding a small cake he’s decorated to look like Pichu. “You can’t go back.”

[🥁😎]: saved you this. will hand it over when I get there!

[☀️💛]: man after my own heart 💛

[🥁😎]: 👉😎👉

“Does that matter? From what I can see, you guys have never had anything to go back on.” Giwook says bluntly, adding another coat of polish to his already immaculately done nails, “You’ve been in love for as long as the sky has been blue.”

“The sky isn’t actually blue, just ask Hyungu-hyung.” Dongmyeong retorts. Giwook throws a cotton ball at him,

“Not the point!” 

Harin comes into their home with a delicate dessert box in one hand and his car keys in the other. This deep in the dead of winter, it’s gotten too cold for him to be pedaling around on his bike anymore, opting instead for the warmth of his old, beaten vehicle. Hyungu and Yonghoon follow quickly, an entire box of popcorn and another bag of snacks for good measure, as if the box of 20 bags isn’t enough to put them into a food coma.

“That’s a tiny cake.” Giwook notes, pointing at the box. Harin nods, handing it off to Dongmyeong who happily accepts it.

“It’s for Myeong.”

“Wow, hyung, talk about favouritism.” He grumbles without much heat. 

“Yeah, Myeong’s my favourite, and? It’s not so different from Hyungu and Yonghoon being each other’s favourite.”

The way Harin admits it so easily… it does something to him. Dongmyeong’s toes curl in his socks, and he tucks chin to chest, smile drawing an ache in his cheeks.

“Hah?!” Hyungu shakes his head emphatically, hair bouncing with the movement, “Giwookie is my favourite.”

“Giwook is your favourite? Not me?”

“Why would it be you? Giwook is so much cuter.” as if to prove his point, Hyungu pats Giwook on the head, fingers stroking his fringe. Giwook looks near tears, and Dongmyeong tries to draw their attention to him.

“Harin-hyung is my favourite.” he admits. Harin laughs, the length of his body drawing back in a splendid curve, hands resting on his waist.

“We know.” Yonghoon waves him off, turning back to his boyfriends, “How do I become your favourite?”

“Be Giwookie.”

“Darling, that’s impossible and you know it.”

“ _Your_ favourite is also Giwook so why are you on my ass about it??” Hyungu bites back with a laugh, pushing at his shoulder. 

Yonghoon colours at the accusation, pink dusting across the smooth line of his cheeks, though he doesn’t refute it. How can he, anyhow? They’ve all been privy to his downturned eyes and upturned lips when he thought no one watched, awed in the presence of their youngest; his whole being in tune with Giwook’s every breath.

“C’mon.” Dongmyeong reaches for him, pulling him away from the bickering pair, “Can’t finish this cake by myself.” 

“Yes you can.” Hyungu interjects though he still lets go of Giwook.

“Why are you letting Giwookie eat Dongmyeong’s cake?” Yonghoon throws an accusing finger in Harin’s direction. “You told me and Hyungu not to even look at it when you were bringing it inside!”

“‘Cause Giwookie is my second favourite,” Harin replies easily, baring his teeth in a glib smile, “duh.”

The cake is delicious, Dongmyeong hasn’t expected anything less of Harin; he tells him as much when Harin gingerly wipes the corner of his mouth of wayward icing, smile endlessly fond when Dongmyeong leans into his palm. 

The movie is in full swing, Yonghoon and Hyungu are wrapped up in each other on the ground, Giwook’s favourite quilt thrown haphazardly over their waists. They still reach out for Giwook’s hand, the black polish of his nails stark against the pale of their fingers. Dongmyeong has all but claimed him though, pressed against his back, leg thrown over him, arms wrapped around his shoulder. Harin is the only one still sitting, Dongmyeong’s head pillowed in his lap.

“Glad you liked it.” Is all Harin says but the edges of his face soften when he glances at him from the corner of his eye. 

His fingers card through Dongmyeong’s hair rhythmically, blunt nails scratching idly against his temple. Dongmyeong closes his eyes, letting himself become adrift in it, every point of contact between them sending splinters of pleasure, warm and beguiling, down his body. He lets the feeling take root, blooming when Harin’s hand slows at the spot just under his earlobe, thumb tracing along the shell of it.

He wakes to cold, arms missing the heat of Giwook’s body and head on a pillow, very much not the same as Harin’s thigh. Down the line of his nose, in the blurry darkness, Dongmyeong can make out the faint silhouette of three bodies pressed together, no doubt Giwook had jumped to them the moment he had fallen asleep. Their tv is still blinking, and Dongmyeong turns it off when he rises, body trembling when he fights a yawn, heading through the house in pursuit of Harin.

He finds Harin easily, sitting in Dongmyeong’s room with the curtains drawn back to look at the city lights and the glistening moon, who looks at him with kind eyes when the door opens.

“You’re awake.” Harin whispers, opening his arms, gesturing for him to settle in.

“Giwook the traitor left me.” Dongmyeong sighs, all but falling into his embrace. Harin hums, letting him clamber onto his lap and swing his legs over him, pressing his face to the crook of his neck, smelling sunlight’s warmth on his skin.

“You’ve still got me.” 

“Don’t I always?”

“Yeah.” Harin breathes, the movement lifting his chest. His arms rest on Donmgyeong’s waist, thumb rubbing circles against the bone, comforting as ever. 

Being with Harin is effortlessly easy, has always been, ever since they’d met as children all those years ago. Dongmyeong leans back to look him in the eyes, hands cupping his face, thumb smoothing over his high cheekbones. Harin’s eyelashes flutter at the movement, leaning into his hands, lips grazing over his palm.

“You’ve got me, too, y’know.” he drawls softly when Harin smiles tiredly at him. He nods at Dongmyeong, kissing his palm again,

“I know, baby.”

He squeezes them together, pressing their chests as close as possible, arms tangled around each other as if fearing something foreign and eldritch might rip them apart. As if Dongmyeong would ever let that happen; he’d sooner watch the crumbling of the moon falling from the sky than lose this love.

It strikes him then, that perhaps there’s something special about their relationship, different to the way friends are, the way lovers are. Dongmyeong doesn’t think there has been a moment that’s made him fall in love, rather, it’s as if he’s _always_ been in love. 

Perhaps Giwook had been right; there wasn’t anything for them to go back to, they have always been lovers, have always been in love, have always been each other’s greatest love. His heart beats steadily in his chest, eerily so, as he loses his breath in Harin’s arms.

He pulls back again, just enough to rest their foreheads together, hands on his broad, strong shoulders. Harin’s eyes are divine, warmth held in the dark of them, something quiet and kind in the shine of them, love in the reflection of them. He looks at Dongmyeong, brow raised in silent question, and receives only a head shake in return.

A beat passes.

He draws closer to Harin, mindful of the lopsided weight he’s adding when he presses their chests together with vigour, nose tipped to the line of Harin’s, lips nearly touching.

A beat passes.

Harin holds with him steady, eyes closed and lips parted in soft breaths, fanning over Dongmyeong’s lips. Close, close, close.

A beat passes.

“I love you.” Dongmyeong confesses.

It feels as though the world has heaved a final, hopeful sigh. He feels weightless with the admission, shoulders sagging in relief when Harin’s grip tightens around him, nosing at him. He nods against Dongmyeong,

“I love you.” Harin confesses. His breath ghosts over Dongmyeong’s face, lips barely touching, speaking against his mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

Dongmyeong kisses him first, then nods. It’s a quick press of their lips, barely there, barely registering that he’d even tipped forward to meet him the rest of the way. After that, it’s as though they can’t seem to get enough. Harin’s gaze is heated when Dongmyeong dares to open his eyes, brows tight and teeth biting into his bottom lip.

Harin pulls him impossibly closer, slotting their lips together in a searing kiss, all but sighing into it when Dongmyeong responds in kind. His tongue swipes of his lips, licking into his mouth, biting his lips, hands coming down to palm his ass. Heat pools deliciously in the pit of his stomach when Harin pulls away, resting their foreheads together again, drinking in the sight of one another.

Dongmyeong kisses him again, lips catching on Harin’s teeth when he’s mid-smile, a serendipitous accident that turns heated once more when he sucks on Harin’s tongue, the deep, rumbling noise he pulls from him going straight to his crotch.

He feels dizzy with arousal, just from the touch of their lips, though Harin doesn’t seem much better off, if the tightening of his pants is anything to go by. He only seems to prove Dongmyeong’s point when his hips cant upward, feeling the heat of his cock heavy against his own. Harin shudders through a moan when he grinds down against him, head falling back and revealing the smooth line of his neck.

“Fuck.” Dongmyeong giggles, kissing him again, giddy with the feeling. Harin lifts him up in one swift movement, flipping them over onto the bed and crowding into his space, lips pressing against every part of skin he can reach.

“I love you.” Harin whispers feverishly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Every word is heatedly punctuated with a kiss, something Dongmyeong returns in kind, hands running through Harin’s soft, soft hair. He laughs against Harin’s mouth, teeth clacking loudly and messily, though it does nothing to stymie their fervour.

“I love you too. Holy shit, I love you.”

Harin laughs too, the sound bright and sunny, far more generous than the warmth of the sun, puffs of air tickling his face. They kiss again, then again, then again. Dongmyeong doesn’t think he ever wants to stop. 

Dongmyeong looks at him when they settle just long enough to catch their breath. Against the dark of night, eclipsing the bright of city lights, he is a sight to behold. He loves Harin, every facet of him, every face, every angle, every attitude. Harin looks back at him and in the soft of his smile, his love is laid bare for the world to see.


	5. Winter to Spring, Once More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnd its a wrap, everyone. officially now :) thank you so much for giving this love, it was truly such a joy to write this.

Two weeks ago, Dongmyeong and Harin went on their first date. The kind of first date that had sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it, nerves furling and unfurling across his body, feeling as though he’d been set alight with it.

Harin asked him first, eyes curving beautifully when he’d playfully suggested they go on their first, real date, and Dongmyeong had nearly jumped on him in his excitement. He’d said it would be a surprise, and with the pleased look playing across the sharp planes of his face, Dongmyeong hadn’t the heart to say no.

He’d been thrumming with excitement the whole ride, hands oscillating between drumming against the wheel and lacing between Dongmyeong’s grasp, the curve of his smile deep and handsome. Underneath the passing streetlights, Harin had washed out every colour on the spectrum, not a soul could hope to outdo him.

Then, they’d passed by familiar territory: the old crooked oak tree by an equally crooked stop sign, the second hand clothes shop with the hand painted sign, the smooth, paved road of their all-too familiar coffeeshop. Harin had killed the engine with glee, pulling Dongmyeong inside their cafe, greeting his coworkers with a flick of his wrist.

“... What are we doing here?”

“Uh… it’s our first date? I thought we’d go back to your favourite place.”

“Hyung,” he smiled sweetly, head cocking to one side, “what the hell made you think this was my favourite place?”

Harin had the sense to look sheepish, mouth dropping open a touch and rubbing his face, as he made a grab for Dongmyeong’s hands again.

“Because… you and Giwookie are always studying here?”

His thumb rubbed over the back of Dongmyeong’s hand, soothing as ever, though it did little to stymie his growing haughtiness. He blinked owlishly, pursing his lips and shaking his head when Harin looked hopefully at him.

“Hyung… we hang out here so I can stare at _you_ and your stupidly nice arms!” 

Dongmyeong wrenched his hands free and jabbed at him, finger bending under Harin’s muscle, and he’d blushed something mean about it when he felt Harin flex underneath his fingertips. 

“You think my arms are nice?” Harin visibly brightened, smile widening until his cheeks puffed; he made a show of flexing his arms, much to Dongmyeong’s chagrin.

“Not the point!” He shrieked and Harin was quick to assuage him, leading him out of the cafe, hands lacing together naturally. 

He smiled at Dongmyeong apologetically tugging him back into his old, beaten car. There, they’d huddled over the center console while Harin blasted the heat, teeth chattering and shaking his head wildly.

“Holy shit this whole time-” He laughed, throwing his head back and showing off the beautiful line of his neck, the sharp cut of his chin, the bob of his adam’s apple, “Fuck oh my god I’m an idiot.”

Dongmyeong couldn’t hold back his laughter either; that Harin thought he’d come for the subpar coffee of his cafe was one thing, wholly ignoring the way he ogled him every time he had a shift was another.

“You kind of are.” He agreed with mirth, cheekily covering his laugh with his hand when Harin shot him a mock hurt glare. When he opened his mouth again, his gaze had softened on Dongmyeong considerably, pushing back the wayward hairs out of his face.

“Good thing idiots are your type, huh?” Harin had joked, the rough pad of his thumb tracing over his mole again and again. Dongmyeong shook his head.

“ _You’re_ my type but you just happen to be an idiot.”

Harin fondly rolled his eyes, all teeth when he smiled, though his affection was seen clearly in every shadow on his face. They’d kissed something soft and slow, straining over the console and grappling at each other’s clothes, hands full of promise for something far warmer.

“Where else should we go?” Harin asked softly, trailing kisses down the column of his neck, hands finding their way into his coat. Dongmyeong shivered, less from the cold and more from the feeling of Harin, his hair, his lips, his hands, his everything.

“Doesn’t matter, just keep me warm.”

-

“What are you thinking about?” Harin asks softly, lips pressed to the crown of his head, arms tightening around his waist.

Above them, the sky darkens, stars racing across the sky in a dance they’ve come to know all too well. Dongmyeong watches a particularly bright one arcing across the cloak of darkness, lighting up the otherwise quiet night in a myriad of blues and purples; Harin’s face wholly outshines them all. He noses Harin’s collarbone, kissing the prominent bone, and reveling in the sharp breath he elicits from him.

“Our first date.”

Harin makes an embarrassed, sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat. He shuffles a little, pulling Dongmyeong further onto his lap, head nestled into the crook of his neck. He smells of the sun, as always, will probably always smell like the sun. Dongmyeong wonders stupidly, dreamily if maybe Harin’s past life has anything to do with pulling the sun across the sky.

“Which one? Like uh… the very first one where I took you to the arcade with just the two of us and paid for all the tokens to get you a teddy bear or the one that happened a week ago where I fucked up?”

“Two weeks ago.” he corrects gently, “But yeah, that one.”

Harin’s face contorts in shame, breathing sharply through his teeth, shaking his head. Dongmyeong finds him cute, even when he sits steeped in shame and embarrassment, the tips of his ears pinking sweetly.

“I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Well,” Dongmyeong laughs, nuzzling further into the folds of his sweater, “you have the rest of your life to.”

“What’s this? Are you asking me to marry you?” Harin holds him closer, pressing them together until not even a breath can hope to settle between them. 

His laugh rumbles against the shell of Dongmyeong’s ears, underlaid by the beating of his heart; it strikes a staccato against him, unsteady and tremoring, and it reverberates down his whole body. Harin is nervous, he realizes a little belatedly, some unaddressed fear caught in the pauses of his breath, the sharp of his teeth, the divinity of his hands. He trembles like an autumn leaf in the harsh winds, and Dongmyeong is quick to grab hold of his hand, squeezing until their knuckles turn white. He presses a kiss to Harin’s wrist.

“Yeah, I am.” he says with conviction. 

When he looks at Harin, he finds the smile in his eyes is gone, left only with the affection of a man who’s spent his last lives loving only one could have, the devotion of a man who’s loved him for longer than he’s been alive. Dongmyeong thinks wistfully, hopefully, that if soulmates exist, it must be in one Ju Harin, who looks at him like he hangs the stars in the sky.

His face is slack, soft lips parted in frozen conversation and hung words, eyes darting all across Dongmyeong’s features as if memorizing his every detail. As if Harin could not draw him by memory of his skin alone. His eyes, sharp, sublime, and so, so beautiful, shine brighter than the stars they’d painstakingly come out to view.

“What…” Harin laughs a little dumbly, though his bottom lip quivers, and his teeth clack together in shock, the sound resonates a little painfully in his ears. 

His eyes cloud with wetness, and when Harin exhales, tears spill unbidden from him. Dongmyeong quickly wipes them away with the sleeve of his hoodie, pouting his lips and kissing his nose, the laughter that bubbles inside of his chest breaking free.

“Why are you crying, stupid?”

“ _Why are you crying_ -” Harin mocks, “‘Cause I was just proposed to and I just love you, I dunno, why _aren’t you_ crying?”

“Okay, okay I’m not crying, I’m a real bad guy huh?” Dongmyeong teases though his voice breaks just a touch.

His face is also damp, he realizes, and he hurriedly wipes at his face with the flat of his palm, laughing wetly when Harin kisses him. 

“Why are we crying?” Harin asks, biting his lip to keep back another cry, which does little to stymie the tears that still flow down his divine face. Dongmyeong shakes his head fondly at him, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug, Harin holds him in kind.

“‘Cause we’re stupid.”

“Stupidly in love.”

“Yeah,” Dongmyeong agrees easily, always does when it comes to Harin, and perhaps, always will too, “we are.”

Harin cups his cheek, and Dongmyeong leans into the warmth of his palm, pressing his lips to the curve of his hand. He dreams of a wedding then, hadn’t thought about it before just mere moments ago, thinks Harin would hate a beach wedding and he’d hate an indoor wedding, thinks they might find something in between. They always do, anyhow. The night’s stars lay forgotten in favour of forever’s promise.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twt [@mechanicharin](https://twitter.com/mechanicharin)  
> kudos/comments are well loved and mighty appreciated, please let me know your thoughts!


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